Taboo
by Blue-Eyed-Butterfly
Summary: Rose has had incestuous feelings for her father for years. But he's been having the same feelings. What happens when a seemingly innocent accident turns to something more? Find out in Taboo, an original erotica.


"**Dad, I'm home!" Rose called out as she shut the front door behind her.**

"**Dad?" She called out again as she heard a clanking in the kitchen. She dropped her backpack in the front room and snuck into the kitchen. She peeked around the edge of the door frame to see her father, Michael, with his back to her. She snuck up behind him and put her hands over his eyes.**

"**Guess who." She teased. She felt his face crack into a wide grin.**

"**Hmmm, Martha Stewart? No, Lindsay Lohan? No, those overly adorned fingers could only belong to my lovely little girl! Did I get it?" He said in an amused and affectionate tone.**

"**Hi daddy." She said as she leaned over his back planting a kiss on his cheek. **

"**Hi sweet heart. How was school today?" He said after giving her a kiss on the temple. She walked over to the kitchen table and plopped into one of the chairs.**

"**Ugh, I had a test in psychology today that almost killed me. But my Sociology class was really fun! We started on structural - functionalism today, and took some notes on Merton's strain theory." She said. Rose aspires to be a psycho - sociologist and specialize in Deviant Behavior. Being a "Goth kid", the idea of violations of the social norms always fascinated her. Her father also just happened to a Professor teaching Military history post 1939, at the same college, CU in Boulder, Colorado.**

"**How was your day? You only had two classes today right?" She asks, as her father rummages around in the fridge a little more.**

"**Yup. Pretty dull. Same old, same old, you know?" He says with his head in the fridge. For a near forty year old, he was pretty good looking. Kept up on his appearance, and was actually well muscled, and by no stretch of the imagination small. But in a good way. There was a little bit of gray at the temples, but Rose didn't think it made him look old. She thought it made him look distinguished. Her and her father couldn't have looked more different. The only things they had in common were their eyes and height. Rose's mom had been short, 5' 4". But Michael was tall, standing at 6' 2". Rose herself stood at 5' 11", but because of her constant usage of platform shoes of all kinds she easily topped him at roughly 6' 4". Both had green - hazel eyes, while her mother had blue eyes. Her father's hair was also a dark brown, while Rose's was dyed black with constantly changing multi-colored streaks.**

**Rose was also made with a dancer's build. Not thin but certainly not what you'd consider chunky. She was well muscled from years of belly - dancing. Some girls took ballet, Rose decided to violate the social norm and took belly dancing. Her father never missed a show.**

**Rose's mother left them almost immediately after she was born. There's only one picture of her and her mother and that's of her and her mother still in the hospital. The day after they came home, her mother vanished without a trace. Michael came home from work and neither Rose nor her mother were home. Neither were her mother's things. He panicked and called everyone trying to find out what happened. He later found out that Rose's mom had left Rose with Michael's mom without so much as a goodbye. But Rose never felt neglected. In fact, she often felt guilty because of all her father's affection. Like, maybe he was trying to compensate for her lack of a mother. Her father was 19 when she was born. Her mother, 17. And now, Rose is 19 as well.**

**Rose never resented her mom, and actually preferred it just being her and her dad. She can only remember ever having one argument with him and it was right after she got her nose pierced. But even that ended peacefully. She adored her father, and he adored her right back. Some of her friends used to joke that the affection she had for her father was more than just father daughter, and she would laugh along with them about the incest jokes. If only they knew. She really didn't just love her father, but was actually IN love with him. But specializing in deviant behavior, she knew such thoughts would be seen as taboo, and god forbid her father ever find out. What they had was perfect, untouchable. To act on her desires would, at least in her eyes, taint their perfect symbiotic relationship. And she knew her desires weren't worth risking her father. So she kept her secret just that, a secret.**

"**So, you know what day it is, right?" Rose pressed, excited that she was 19 today.**

"**Uh, St. Patrick's day?" He guessed.**

"**That's not for another two days dad." She said in an exasperated tone. "Try again."**

"**Um…I don't remember…" He said still rummaging through the fridge.**

"**Dad!" She whined, even though she knew he was kidding.**

"**Don't worry, I didn't forget." He said as he turned around, holding out a cake with skulls and roses iced onto it. Her dad was also an amazing cook.**

"**OH MY GOD! You MADE that!" She exclaimed, gushing over the cake that her dad had painstakingly hand-iced, no doubt. **

"**With these very two hands. No boxes included." He beamed with pride at his handy work. Rose jumped out of the chair and latched onto her father bouncing happily.**

"**Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you! Hang on! Let me go put my stuff in my room and change out of these clothes!" She gives another squeal and squeezes him tightly one more time before bounding happily away. Michael couldn't help but watch her all giddy skip up the stairs to her room. How her vinyl mini skirt nicely hugged her rear, how her high heeled platforms accentuated her shapely calves and how here black and white striped thigh high socks still showed the nice shape of her legs, how her corset cinched her already slim waist, pushing her round, plump breasts up making her C-cups look like D-cups. Even thinking about it aroused him.**

**Michael stared after her wistfully and finally found the strength to chastise himself for having such thoughts of his daughter. But even the inappropriateness of the situation didn't deter him. Quite the contrary, it furthered his arousal, which stirred more chastising from his conscience. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of both hands, desperately trying to brush the images from his mind.**

"**She's your daughter Mike. Half your age no less. Just a little girl still." He mused out loud to no one. He looked up the stairs after his daughter.**

'**No, not a little girl anymore. She's grown into a lovely, beautiful, young woman.' This stirred memories of Rose as a little girl, trick-or-treating, going to the blue parrot for spaghetti on the last day of school, going to Trinidad for family reunions, taking her to the park, even now, they take walks to the park. Hearing her squeal for ice-cream during the summer every time the ice-cream truck rolled through their neighborhood in Louisville. He was so caught up in his reminiscing he didn't even hear her come back downstairs.**

"**Dad? Are you okay?" He heard Rose say, concern on her face. He pulled his hands from face and gave her a smile.**

"**Yeah, honey. Just a bit of a headache starting." He said, referring specifically to his conscience that was beginning to nag him relentlessly. Even in her black and red plaid flannel lounge pants and a simple black tank top, she looked stunning.**

"**Do you want some ibuprofen? We don't have to do the cake tonight if your not feeling up to it." Her lips, painted black and red, turned down at the corners.**

"**Of course we're doing it tonight! Are you kidding? It's your nineteenth birthday! Celebration time! I'll just take a couple aspirin and be good to go." He said, not wanting to ruin Rose's special day. Her face lit right back up as he pulled the aspirin out of the cupboard and took a couple then grabbed a couple paper plates and two forks.**

**He lit the one and nine candles as well as the 13 black birthday candles he had placed in it and started to sing.**

"**This is your birthday song! It isn't very long! But if cryogenics were all free, then you could live like Walt Disney, and live for all eternity inside a block of ice. But for you your time is set this is the only life you get and though it hasn't ended yet sometimes you wish it might! Happy Birthday, you wish you had more money! Happy Birthday, your life's so sad it's funny! Happy Birthday, how much more can you take? But your dad is hungry, so just cut the stupid cake! Okay, make a wish." He smiled as she sat and giggled while he sang.**

"**I know the drill." She sighed and closed her eyes, concentrating. Finally, she took a deep breath and blew out the candles, her father applauded and handed her the knife.**

"**Serve it up, sweetie." She smiled and cut and served her morbid cake. They chatted easily about her lessons, and what he's been teaching his students. About halfway through their second serving of cake, her father revealed her present from under the counter. Wrapped in black paper with a silver bow, it was a present worthy of Tim Burton.**

"**Didn't I tell you not to get me anything?" Rose chastised her father half-heartedly as she tore into the present.**

"**Shouldn't you have learned by now that I don't listen?" He replied smugly as Rose shot him a look. Nestled into the box was a bottle of Black Star perfume by Avril Lavigne, a new pair of worn black combat boots, a new corset blouse, j-rock pants combo outfit from Black Peace Now, and the new Omega Lithium album Dreams In Formaline.**

"**Oh my god! Thank you daddy! How did you get these!" She hugs all of her presents tightly. To which, Michael just smiled and mysteriously said, "Daddy has his ways. Is this what you wished for?" He inquires.**

**Rose's smile falters a little, nervously.**

"**Wouldn't you like know." She grinned mischievously. He smiles at their playful banter.**

"**Well, go try them on. I want to see if they fit!" He says impatiently. Rose smiles widely and jumps up, tripping in the process, her father, just barely managing to break her fall. The clothes and other items tumbled to the floor as Rose threw her arms out in front of her to try to catch herself. But the way her father caught her, she didn't touch the floor. Instead, she ended up right on top of him, her face pressed into his shoulder his hand protectively holding her flush against him.**

"**Are you okay?" He asked, concerned.**

"**Y-yeah." She stammered, trying to ignore her body's reaction to the intimate position. Her heart hammered in her chest, not from the fall, but from the feel of his hands on her skin, his arm around her waist, and she tried to will her heart to slow, afraid that he could feel it as intensely as she could. She pulled slightly away, so she could look at her father and make sure he was okay.**

"**What about…" But as she looked into her father's eyes, she couldn't remember what she was about to ask. She couldn't even remember where she was. And frankly, she didn't care. Her eyes flicked from his eyes to his lips and back again, her body waging war with her judgment. But when she saw the glimmer in her father's eyes, it clicked. Why fight your own desires when the person of your affection is waging the same war? Why fight against something that seems so menial? Without realizing what they were doing, their lips tenderly touched. Only a brush of flesh against flesh, but it was the spark to start the kindling aflame.**

**Rose looked into her father's eyes and saw his resolve fade as quickly as hers had. Suddenly, heat overtook her father's face, and that was it. Rose pressed her lips to her fathers, and he pressed back, running his tongue over her bottom lip, requesting entrance. And she responded in earnest, their tongues gliding over each other, fighting for dominance, heat exploded in both of their bodies. Without meaning to, Michael let out a low moan, which caused Rose to moan. His voice, god his voice. Michael broke the kiss too soon for Rose's liking.**

"**Rose, we can't. It's wrong." He tried to reason, not so much to her, but to convince himself. But hearing his voice, husky, with desire and passion, Rose knew that there was no turning back.**

"**Do you want to know what I wished for?" She asked, trailing kisses lightly down his jaw, his neck, under his shirt to his collar bone. He moaned again, and Rose could feel his arousal press into her groin.**

"**I wished for this. For you and me. For just one night, where I don't have to try to lie to myself. Just one night is all I ask, daddy. Please, daddy." She whined, voice hot with desire, Michael knew, without a doubt, that it was a voice he could never deny.**

"**Yes, baby. Yes, anything." He responded and raised his hand to the back of her neck as he rolled her on top of him so she was straddling his waist. He pressed his lips to her neck, licked and biting, rousing more of those luscious sounds from deep inside this beautiful creature. He wanted to hear those sounds and more. He wanted to hear her moan. Moan, cry out his name in pleasure. He knew it was wronged, but how he so wanted to fuck her. And it was that primal urge that drove him onward.**


End file.
